


i can send you into overdrive

by euphemea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Dimitri/Marianne, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, also inappropriate use of desks, background glenn/holst, inappropriate use of video calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea/pseuds/euphemea
Summary: There’s a soft ping and a flash of color as a window pops up on his laptop, just visible out of the corner of his eye from where he’s watching Sylvain watch him, and Felix sits up, heart hammering.Fuck. Okay, he’s really doing this.He shoots Sylvain a glare tokeep quiet and behaveand earns a snicker in response.~~Felix Week Day 1: Birthday
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 162
Collections: Felix Birthday Week 2020, Sylvix Squad Super Stories





	i can send you into overdrive

**Author's Note:**

> [cherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryconke), [cha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akhikosanada), and [kamu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution) are to blame for this fic.
> 
> happy birthday felix! i'm sorry glenn.

This is such a bad fucking idea. 

Does this even qualify as an idea? It’s just Sylvain being _fucking_ horny and stupid and for some unknowable reason determined to piss off Glenn, like Glenn isn’t always pissed off enough anyways. 

Felix is just _here_ , ready at his computer for his weekly call with his brother, and his problem of a boyfriend sits parked between his legs, looking foolish and besotted and a lot of other maybe-not-terrible things where he’s crouched underneath the table. There’s no way Sylvain’s comfortable down there, not with his shoulders jammed together and his neck hunched weirdly, even as he’s using it as an excuse to rest his cheek against Felix’s thigh. He’s got that fucking look in his eye, the one that sends a thrill of arousal as much as it sends a jolt of fear, and Felix shivers. It will be on pain of death that Felix admits that he’s at all affected, but Sylvain’s smirk gets just that much wider and more knowing.

Fucker.

Sylvain ghosts a hand up Felix’s inner thigh, the touch gossamer as it raises goosebumps though the material of his sweats. There’s a gentle tap against Felix’s hip from the other as he coaxes Felix to lift up a little so he can pull the fabric down. Felix considers putting his foot down instead (maybe literally, preferably grinding pressure against Sylvain’s dick so he can be properly punished for this truly terrible and ridiculous thing that Felix let himself get talked into), but then Sylvain somehow squirms his way up and breathes hot and heavy against Felix’s crotch and there’s not really the blood left in his brain to deny him.

Sylvain makes a noise of delighted surprise when the sweatpants pull away with no underwear to follow, and Felix can’t stop the embarrassment from flushing its way up his neck. There’s no way Sylvain actually expected him to wear underwear, not after two years’ worth of enthusiastic birthdays-turned-sex-holidays—including one that had ruined some of Sylvain’s nicer clothes with lube and his favorite plug; Felix hadn’t heard the end of that for _weeks_ —and yet, the sound makes Felix blush like they’re teenaged virgins about to fuck for the first time. 

Anyway, they both know the underwear is an unnecessary step, especially since they’re not going anywhere until dinner. Felix supposes he should be glad that Sylvain let him bother to put on any clothes at all this morning. 

The fabric of the chair cushion is rough against Felix’s ass, just like it has been the other couple times this unfortunate piece of office equipment has borne witness to some particularly raunchy rounds of desk-related sex. He squirms a bit, trying to work off the tension and moderate horror that are building in his veins as he stares at his computer screen and waits for the call to come in. 

He can feel Sylvain’s palms, warm and comforting and just the slightest bit rough, as they run their way up the insides of his exposed thighs; he can feel the caress of every familiar callus as Sylvain’s fingers sink into flesh and he presses a wet and biting kiss slightly too far from where Felix needs it. He kind of wants to kick Sylvain in retaliation, but unfortunately, his legs are trapped in the mess of his sweatpants still (damn you, Sylvain, for not helping him take the clothes off completely; he’d been planning on wrapping his legs around those broad shoulders and riding Sylvain’s face once the call was over), and he has to shuffle awkwardly to free his right ankle before he can manage it. 

Of course, Sylvain, bastard that he is, anticipates the movement and catches the foot before it can do any damage, and he responds by teasing Felix more, gently massaging the foot with his hands while lavishing kisses against every sliver of skin he can reach. Which isn’t much, given that he chose to shove himself under Felix’s desk, but it’s enough that Felix is hard and annoyed and very rapidly going to approach desperate.

There’s a soft ping and a flash of color as a window pops up on his laptop, just visible out of the corner of his eye from where he’s watching Sylvain watch him, and Felix sits up, heart hammering.

Fuck. Okay, he’s really doing this. 

He shoots Sylvain a glare to _keep quiet and behave_ and earns a snicker in response. 

His foot connects this time.

Sylvain maybe whimpers below him, but he ignores it and clicks the button to accept the call. 

“Oh good, you decided to pick up, birthday boy. Finally.” 

Glenn’s face is plastered across his screen, obnoxiously large and filling the entire screen like he’s someone’s grandpa who’s never made a video call before. Felix tries to jerk back slightly to get some distance but fails when Sylvain’s hands dig in and catch him, dragging him forward instead. There’s a quiet chuckle and puff of breath against his cock and Felix clenches a fist (out of line of sight of the camera, because he’s not stupid) to keep from shuddering.

Felix tsks. “I’m twenty-four, Glenn. A little past the age for you to still be calling me ‘boy’.”

Glenn laughs, derisive and rude. “You’ll always be itty baby Fe-Fe to me, little bro.”

“Yeah, but younger than you doesn’t mean a baby when you’re still as technologically inept as Uncle Lambert, who’s a literal grandpa now,” Felix says, waving the unclenched hand toward the screen. “You’re too close to the camera again.” 

Glenn rolls his eyes and pulls back, finally a normal size on Felix’s screen. “That better for you, Fe?” 

“Much,” Felix says drily. Sylvain apparently decides that it’s not better for _him_ though, and he leans his weight against Felix’s thighs to slowly unleash his tongue to finally ( _finally_ ) press against Felix and lick a slow swirl around the head of his cock. Felix twitches involuntarily at the contact, the movement quickly followed by a sharp breath as Sylvain carefully takes more of him into his mouth.

“Anything for you, birthday boy.” Glenn’s smirking at him, and a prickle of sweat makes its way to Felix’s neck. Does he know? _Already?_ Goddess, Sylvain has the worst ideas. 

Fucking telepath that he is, Sylvain somehow hears the thought and decides it’s time to ramp up Felix’s torture, and he bobs his head slowly, pulling away briefly to chuckle when Felix’s hips dare to thrust forward. Felix shoves a hand in his hair and pulls him back onto his cock, and Sylvain obliges, resuming his methodical and frustratingly slow ministrations. Felix can hear Sylvain’s voiceless comment ( _“Needy, are we, sweetheart?”_ ) and the temptation to kick him again rises.

“So tell me, Fe, how’s it going? Any plans for today?”

Felix can’t tell if Glenn is fucking with him. He knows that Glenn knows that birthdays have the tendency to become marathon sex days because (and this was his _previous_ mistake) Glenn used to have a key to his place and last year decided that visiting his little brother on his birthday was a brilliant gift and a flawless idea. 

Glenn does _not_ have that key anymore. 

This is still the first time that Felix has done anything quite as daring and risqué as letting Sylvain suck him off while he talks to Glenn. He’s not sure he’ll be able to live down the horror of his brother knowing that he’s the victim of Sylvain’s exhibitionist streak.

“Things are fine.” Things aren’t exactly _fine_ , they’re good but there’s not enough pressure on his cock and the rest of his body is feeling relatively neglected. And Sylvain is still just fucking teasing him. 

“Just fine? It’s your birthday, you should go out and celebrate!”

Behind Glenn, pink-haired himbo boyfriend Holst wanders through the frame wearing nothing but low-riding sweats. As usual. Probably the same stupid sweats with “SEXY” printed on the ass that Glenn gave him as a joke gift. Felix has half a mind to say something about Holst’s state of undress, but he’s not (currently) in a position to have the right to say anything. He’s complained about Holst wandering around without clothes before, but _apparently_ Glenn likes the view. Glenn had followed up his unrequested commentary on the virtues of Holst’s rear with a retort that Sylvain _also_ likes to wander around without enough clothes on, and Felix hadn’t had words for that.

It’s a little disturbing sometimes that the two of them have such strikingly similar and _stupid_ taste in partners. 

And, given what Felix is currently doing, that unfortunate commonality begs a question he _really_ doesn’t want an answer to. 

Felix rolls his eyes. “We’re going to dinner, and then Ingrid’s having a movie night at her place so the rest of them have an excuse to eat cake.” His breath maybe hitches on one or two words as Sylvain shuffles closer, his hands wrapping around to grab at Felix’s ass and his mouth taking Felix in so slowly that it’s almost painful.

“From Lysithea’s? Or is Mercie gonna make one for you?”

Felix shrugs a shoulder. “Probably Lysithea’s. They’ll figure it out.”

Sylvain’s lips reach the base of Felix’s cock, and Felix can feel the smug bastard’s victorious grin against him as he stays there, not moving. Sylvain’s throat is warm and wet and perfect around him, the pressure hot and distracting and good enough to make Felix want to let go and fuck Sylvain’s face. Just like every fucking time Sylvain does this. Fucker likes showing off how well he can deepthroat _way_ too much and possibly too often, though Felix can grudgingly admit that he definitely appreciates being the beneficiary of Sylvain’s finely-honed cock-sucking skills. 

Felix puts his hand back in Sylvain’s hair and tugs, trying to get that electrifying friction back, but Sylvain holds fast, instead moaning quietly. Felix knows Sylvain doesn’t have a thing for getting his hair pulled—he’s doing this to fuck with Felix, and the worst part is that it absolutely works.

A distressingly hot mix of fear and arousal smashes into Felix at the sound and the way it vibrates its way into the very essence of his being, and he lets out a heavy gasp. If his cheeks weren’t red enough before, there’s no way they aren’t crimson now. 

Glenn raises an eyebrow. “You okay, there, Fe?”

“Fine,” Felix chokes out. He can still feel the labored movements of Sylvain’s throat against him, but apparently Sylvain is _determined_ , because he doesn’t move or show any signs that his gag reflex is kicking in. “How are things with you?”

Glenn makes a face. “Alright. Holst’s sister’s birthday wasn’t that long ago and he wouldn’t shut up about getting her a present even after the date passed, but it’s whatever.”

A faint _“I can hear you, asshole!”_ echoes through the background and Glenn twists to make a rude hand gesture and stick his tongue out at his couch. “Love you too, dumbass!” He turns back to Felix. “And Dad keeps asking me how you’re doing. You should pick up his calls sometime.”

Felix snorts. “No thanks.” It’s now that Sylvain has the audacity to finally pull back and resume sucking him off as though he’d never stopped. This time, though, he’s single-minded, no longer teasing, and Felix’s heartbeat rockets even higher, his breathing uneven as he bites his tongue to keep a moan from escaping.

“Yeah, yeah.” Glenn chews his lip for a moment. Below Felix, Sylvain takes the moment of silence as another opportunity and moves a hand around to fondle Felix’s balls, his mouth reshaping into yet another smirk. It’s a testament to his skill that he keeps his mouth moving even as he does it. If Felix had enough brain cells left to rub together to form coherent thoughts, he would definitely kick Sylvain again for showing off. Sylvain decides to rub it in by stopping to drag light, tingling pressure against Felix’s perineum.

Felix hisses at the contact and Glenn gives him another half-confused, half-amused look. 

“Oh yeah, Dima’s been asking if you’re going to visit him and Mari. He wants you to meet the new baby.”

“I don’t like kids.” Fuck, that was choked. Way too choked.

“I know that, and he knows too, but he’s still hoping you’ll be around more now. Besides, the baby’s pretty cute. Looks just like Marianne.”

Felix tunes him out. When Glenn gets going about Hazel, he doesn’t shut up, so Felix chances a glance down and, sure enough, Sylvain is looking at him—his eyes a little damp, but overall mischievous and entirely too put together. Those eyes crinkle as Felix meets Sylvain’s gaze and he throws himself even more enthusiastically into his task, something Felix hadn’t even thought possible. 

Felix can feel himself approaching orgasm, faster than he’d like, and he _knows_ Sylvain is going to be impossible about it if he doesn’t flip the script on him, at least a little, so— 

(Glenn’s still chattering on about his goddaughter, something about offering to show pictures Felix isn’t interested in or gifts he wants to get her that Felix doesn’t care about. Thank Goddess he’s distracted, because Felix is about to do something incredibly stupid.)

Felix runs a careful foot up Sylvain’s thigh until he finds… _there_.

Sylvain’s answering moan is definitely loud enough for the microphone on his computer to pick it up, even with his mouth crammed full of cock, but Felix can’t honestly be assed to care right now, the sweet sensation of revenge singing through him as he rubs his foot against the hard line of Sylvain’s erection where it’s beginning to make his pants damp. It pairs fantastically with the arousal surging in his veins as he’s almost—

“Ugh, gross,” Glenn’s voice cuts in, loud and revolted, and Felix looks up at him. “Really, Fe? I wasn’t going to say anything, but I knew it was suspicious that Sylvain wasn’t sticking his head into the call like usual. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, because you two always fuck like rabbits,” he pauses to cringe, probably at the memory of Felix’s last birthday, “but I thought you had some common decency, Fe. Even if Sylvain doesn’t.”

Sylvain, fucking bastard, pulls off completely to just start _laughing_. 

Felix winces. He was _so close_ too, and now he’s just irritated and horny.

Glenn rolls his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Sylvain.”

Sylvain shoves Felix’s chair back and sticks his head out from under the desk. He looks ridiculous with his hair mussed and cheeks flushed from being cramped in a small space for so long. Unfortunately for Felix, it’s still an objectively hot look. “Hey, Glenn!” His voice is a little rough, and Felix’s voice colors from the obvious implications.

“Disgusting, Gautier,” Glenn says. “I’d tell you to go suck a dick, but…”

Sylvain snorts. “Always happy to oblige.”

“Fuck off,” Felix says, to no one in particular. Or maybe both of them. His face is probably warm enough to fry something.

Sylvain turns to him, doe-eyed and crooning. “You love it.”

“Actually disgusting,” Glenn says. He looks more entertained than anything else, but Felix has learned not to trust that type of face on anyone. Especially not his brother or his boyfriend.

“Fuck off,” Felix repeats, this time specifically to Glenn. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. As much as this makes _great_ blackmail material, I’ve definitely seen enough of your dick for the year. Call me back later, okay?”

Felix throws him a rude hand gesture.

Glenn rolls his eyes. “Really feeling the love, birthday boy.” He pauses, a hand rising to point at Sylvain. “Also, Gautier, if you try this again, I _will_ kill you. We clear?”

Sylvain coughs. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Later, losers.”

The video blinks and Glenn’s window is finally, mercifully gone. Felix slams the laptop lid down, probably far too hard for a piece of equipment that he needs for work and that cost him a few thousand dollars, but sue him, he’s got a lot of irritation and energy to spare at the moment.

“That went well,” Sylvain says, back to pillowing his head against Felix’s thighs, his face both offensively close to and obnoxiously too far from where it _should_ be, finishing what he started. 

“Shut up.” 

“Nah, don’t want to. I just had to be quiet for _so_ long, Fe.”

“I never should have taken your bait.” 

“Probably. But that was fun, right?”

Felix growls. “It _would have been_ , if you had done your job correctly and kept quiet when you were supposed to.”

“Mmm,” Sylvain hums, unhelpfully. He brings a hand up to grasp Felix, gently— _too_ gently, with nowhere near enough pressure. Felix scowls down at him. “Maybe if _you’d_ been good, you could have gotten off by now.”

Sylvain’s grip tightens for a brief moment and Felix thrusts into it, whining. 

“ _Sylvain._ ”

The grip slackens, and Sylvain blinks at him, all faux innocence. “Yes, Felix?”

“Fuck you.”

Sylvain laughs. “Maybe later.” He presses a kiss against the tip of Felix’s cock. 

Fuck all this teasing.

“ _Sylvain!_ ”

“Yeah, babe?”

Felix huffs an impatient breath. “... _Please_.”

“Please what?”

Felix is going to _get him back_ later, but right now, he’s been hard for far too long and desperate to at least get the edge off. There’s definitely a part of him that regrets giving in to the petty desire to see Sylvain come undone, at least a little.

“You _know_.”

Sylvain’s hand moves slowly up and down his shaft, still far too loose, pleasant but not what Felix fucking _needs_.

“Gotta use your words, Fe.”

Fuck words and fuck you, Sylvain Gautier.

Felix pants. “Syl, p- _please_.”

Fuck, he’s really begging now. Isn’t it supposed to be his birthday or something? Why is Sylvain being so _mean_?

As if in answer, the other hand comes up to once more lightly tease his balls.

All this goddess-damned _light_ touching.

“Come on, sweetheart, tell me what you want.”

Felix’s remaining resistance and embarrassment crumble at the pet name, warm and comforting and thrilling against Sylvain’s lips. 

“S-suck me off.”

Sylvain smirks. “Gladly.”

Then, fuck, _at long last_ , Sylvain lets the too-loose hand fall away to pull Felix closer as he swallows him down in a single motion.

Sylvain’s mouth is so good around him, the noises and drool filthy and loud, and Felix gets his legs around Sylvain’s head, just like he’d wanted. He clings to the chair, gasping loudly as he finally, _finally_ gets what he’s been promised all fucking morning. 

“Yes, fuck, _Syl_ —!”

It never gets old, the way Sylvain can take him apart and put him back together, can hang the fucking moon and stars and make his world turn. Sylvain takes cock like a fucking _champ_ , and Felix will never not be grateful for this fact.

Felix comes with a choked-off moan, one hand winding its way into Sylvain’s hair to hold him in place as he rides out his orgasm, probably far too soon, but Sylvain’s been teasing him for _so_ long, Felix deserves this.

He collapses back into the chair, only a little boneless and far less fucked out than he _could_ be, but sated and satisfied, at least for the moment. There’s still the whole day to look forward to.

Sylvain pushes to his feet, leaning carefully over Felix to gently brush his hair away from his face. “You okay?”

“Fuck you.”

Felix pulls him down by the shirt, biting into Sylvain’s lip as he crashes their mouths together. He means it to be a rough kiss, a deep one telling tales and roaring emotion as he makes Sylvain feel the state he’s been in, but— 

The chair wobbles precariously under their sudden combined weight for a slow moment before rolling back and dumping them in an undignified mess on the floor. 

There’s a muffled crash and a smacking of limbs as they land, and the hardwood is unyielding against Felix’s bare ass, but he has more important things to worry about, and he ignores everything else in favor of dragging Sylvain back in for another kiss. 

There’s a hint of iron and a buzz of pleasure-pain, but he can’t tell whose lip is cut, or if it’s both of them, and he doesn’t care. Far more importantly, Felix can feel the outline of Sylvain’s cock pressed against his waist as the other man settles over his hips. 

Good. It’s his turn to suffer.

Felix winds a hand into Sylvain’s hand and pulls him down to quickly settle into wrecking his adoring idiot of a boyfriend.

Then again, his ass _is_ cold and a little uncomfortable. Maybe not here.

“Get off.”

Sylvain whines. “But I just got here, babe.”

“Bed.”

Sylvain chases his lips, and Felix plants a hand in his face. 

“ _Bed_ , I said.”

Sylvain grinds his cock against Felix as an answer. Horny bastard.

“Stop that. You’re going to want the bed for what I’m going to do to you.”

Sylvain’s eyes widen and he immediately clambers off, stumbling over the foot of the chair in his eagerness.

Felix rolls his eyes and stands, grabbing Sylvain’s arm to steady him. 

When Sylvain finally succeeds in making his way onto his feet, Felix crowds him and hooks fingers into the waistband of his pants.

“You’ve been waiting all morning, right? And you did a good job taking care of me… give or take some bad behavior. So now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Felix can feel a smirk rise as he watches Sylvain swallow. Sylvain might be the one with the stupid ideas, but he’s far from the only one who can make a _plan_.

Felix still has the rest of his birthday left to enjoy, after all.

* * *

Felix’s phone dings, cute and charming in that text tone Annette set and he never bothered to change, and he slaps at it, pulling it toward him. 

It unlocks under his rough swipe and he jabs the messaging app to scroll his notifications, and—

“Aaurghhh, _fuck_!” 

Felix drops the phone on his nose, the image burned into his retinas.

“Hmm? You okay, Fe?” Sylvain’s voice is husky where it mumbles into his shoulder, and Sylvain presses a soft trail of kisses down Felix’s arm as he reaches for the phone where it’s landed on the bed. He squints briefly at the screen before he, too, drops the device, bursting into laughter. His mirth is warm and ringing in the quiet of their bedroom (and it soothes Felix’s distressed mind, at least a little), though it does nothing to remove the scarring picture from the inside of his eyelids.

“It’s not funny,” Felix says, _not_ petulant.

Sylvain presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It kind of is, babe.”

“This is all your fucking fault.”

“Mmm.”

“Ugh, I can’t unsee it.”

Felix grimaces he picks up his phone again, unceremoniously quitting the app before he gets another eyeful of Glenn’s tasteless selfie. The accompanying “now we’re even” text rattles in a jeering loop inside his head, and Felix can hear Glenn’s mocking laughter. 

Fuck. He’s not dealing with this right now.

He throws the phone carelessly back onto the nightstand, and he lets his eyes determinedly drink in the sight of Sylvain lazing naked next to him to purge the bad thoughts about Glenn’s sex life. It sort of works.

Sylvain holds out an arm and he shuffles closer, molding into the embrace.

Felix can deal with his brother later. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

**Author's Note:**

> also, maybe, i'm sorry felix.
> 
> find me on twitter [@euphemeas](https://twitter.com/euphemeas)!


End file.
